No Returns or Exchanges
by Reflected Shadows
Summary: Five years have passed since Adrien left for the States. But at long last he has returned to his home, his friends, and hopefully his Lady... if he can find her that is.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi! I'm new to to this fandom, but not new to the fanfiction world... I thought I would give it a dabble, and see where it takes me. I'm an aspiring writer so I appreciate all critique, so please feel free to share your thoughts, whether good or bad :) I work full time, so my goal is to update this story weekly, provided this story garners your interest.**

 **Thank you for taking the time to read and I hope you enjoy!**

 **No Returns or Exchanges**

 **Chapter 1: Home again, home again, jiggity jig.**

"Welcome to Paris! City of love!"

The flight attendant's voice over the plane intercom jarred Adrien Agreste from his sleep. He groggily straightened up in time to gather himself and hand his trash over to the petite blonde female attendant passing by, who placed it in her bag. She made the last few rows before giving a thumbs up to the brunette woman who held the small speaker.

"In a few minutes we will start our descent, please revert your seats to the upright position, and collapse your tray. On behalf of our airline, thank you, and we look forward to flying with you again." She hung the small black device back up and walked over to where the rest of the attendents were buckling themselves in.

Turbulence hit, causing the plane to rock side from side, and while many of the other first class riders grimaced queasily and cringed into their seats, Adrien eagerly popped open the shade on the window to peer out.

5 years.

Paris in all her glorious beauty was splayed out below, illuminated by the pure joyous light of the rising sun. Cathedrals, galleries, towers, and the familiar roof tops. All favorite haunts with even dearer memories attached in perfect view. Adrien pressed his hands against the window, as if he could somehow reach out to touch all that was there at once. He felt like a man who had wandered the desert seeking refuge for weeks on end, and now finally he had found his oasis. Paris was home. Adrien was home.

Five years. It had been five years since Adrien had been surrounded by the sound of his mother tongue. French being spoken, more than just over the phone, all around him, at once- coupled with the smells of bakeries, and the clatter of shoes and luggage. He eagerly pulled his small carry on through the baggage claims, soaking and reveling in everything he saw and heard. It was good to be back. It felt so right. And yet... so wrong that it had taken this long.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed a small newspaper stand with stacks of free papers. From where he stood he could see the main page, a large picture on the front of what appeared to be an akumatized mailman with the title 'GONE POSTAL' in bold lettering. There were no mentions of… anyone else.

"Master Agreste."

The familiar voice broke him from his reverie, and he turned to meet the warm familiar blue eyes of someone he considered family.

"Nathalie!" He swooped forward and picked up the brunette woman in a quick hug. Nostalgia hit him hard, but even stranger was the fact that the woman who had always seemed tall and stern, only came to his chin and seemed alot-.

She squeaked in alarm. "Put me down!"

 _Well forget that, she's still stern._ Adrien chuckled to himself as he sat her down.

"I see the Americans have rubbed off on you." Nathalie straightened her glasses and looked him up and down. "Your father wil be appalled." Natalie tisked, reaching forward to straighten the button up blouse that Adrien wore. Inwardly though, she beamed with pride at seeing the young man. It only seemed yesterday that she was driving a sad and lonely teenager to the airport. But the Adrien who had returned in his place was a taller, sturdier man with shining eyes, and a large smile.

"I hope so!" Adrien agreed enthusiastically.

"Well, we'll see shortly enough, we have already retrieved your luggage from customs. If you will follow me, I'll bring you to the car." She started leading Adrien to the outside, paying attention as she watched him eagerly looking around. Her lips tightened at the corners. She was happy he was home.

"Speaking of my work-a-holic father, I see he isn't here. I don't remember him being afraid of airports."

"He had a meeting, he is looking forward to dinner though." Nathalie ignored the latter comment. She, herself, still hadn't forgiven Mr. Agreste for not bringing Adrien to the airport all those years ago. What kind of father made his son leave everything he knew with hardly a farewell.

She waved down their limo, and once it pulled up, leaned over to open the car door. However before she could, Adrien grabbed it and opened it. He grinned at her and gestured for her to get in.

Nathalie hesitated and then rolled her eyes and obliged. "Did you treat all of your caretakers like this?"

"Nope, I fired them all a week in. No one matched up to you, and after the tenth time of giving me down feather pillows, I realized it was unfair of me to compare everyone to you, as you are clearly on an absurdly high level. And you can hardly call yourself a caretaker now. I'm not a kid!" Adrien mused leaning back against the comfy seat. He turned up the A.C. and directed a vent towards him, before unbuttoning his collar twice to reveal the neck of the blue shirt underneath.

"Hardly," she repeated dryly, watching as he repeatedly then opened and closed the car window. Who turned on A.C. and then played with the window? "I suppose you fired your limo driver too?"

"Nonsense, he just took an extended leave. I got a car instead." He sighed. "Bessie, she was a beaut. 1982 'vette, with a killer sound sys-" he froze mid sentence, putting the window all the way down and sticking his head out. That flash of red in the corner of his eye, was it… could it be…

A red flag advertising some sort of small gallery whipped in the wind. Adrien settled back in his seat trying to quell the disappointment welling in him. He was acting window closed with a small click and he leaned back and closed his eyes with a sigh, his right index finger absently rubbing a black ring on his left..

Nathalie peered at him with concern for a moment before writing it off as it being exhaustion and decided to let him be. There would be plenty of time for catch up later.

Dupain-Cheng Bakery, Same day.

The usual tinkle of bells greeted Alya as she entered the bakery. It was quickly followed by a thump sound and a weak "Good morning" from the sole worker in the small cafe.

"My my my, is that a lump on your head or are you just happy to see me?" The reporter put her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows at the bluenette woman who was rubbing her head where she had banged it on the underside of the table.

"Sorry," Marinette winced, grimacing at the oncoming headache.

"I'm going to assume you're apologizing to the table, seeing as I was the one who surprised you. What were you doing anyway?" Alya swung her backpack off and put it down on the little circular table, watching as Marinette haltingly crawled out from underneath. With little difficulty, the bluenette leaned on the table to help straighten her bad right leg. It had the tendency to get incredibly stiff.

"Gum, I swear this customer the other day had 12 kids, and each of those kids had their own pack of gum… Notice I say had?" Marinette glared at the offending table. With a sigh, she pulled her hair band off the tail of her long braid, and began finger combing it out. It amused Alya to no end to watch Marinette do this, because she knew it would only be a matter of time before the hair went back up to meet the bakery's regulations. "The usual?"

"Yes," Alya blew her a kiss, before reaching down and pulling out her laptop and notebooks. Although the early sunlight was just starting to chase the rest of the shadows away, and cars and people start to fill the street, Alya was already alert and working. News didn't sleep, so she couldn't wait to get an early jump on the days work, especially when she had a Dupain-Cheng coffee and glazed sprinkled donut on the way.

"How was your night?" Marinette asked as she got the coffee grinder started. The sounds of coffee beans rattling around, the chirping of birds outside made the normal morning background music. Sunlight filled the room through the wide windows, throwing the soft amber highlights in her bestfriends hair to full brilliance. In the last couple years, Alya had filled out her broad shoulders and boyish build. She stood a few inches taller than Marinette, with long thick and now smooth red hair on her right side, and an undercut on the left. Her glasses, ever present were black and chique, and her lush black lashes fluttered across her cheeks as she blinked in rapid tempo with her clicking fingers. Despite many of Marinette's and Nino's efforts, her wardrobe of plaid persisted in making a regular appearance.

"Al'?" Marinette repeated, amused, knowing her voice was probably just echoing around in Alya's otherwise focused mind. She grabbed her bestfriends personal mug from the crowd of simple white cups on a shelf. The mug was pink with the black words "Give me Coffee or Give me Death" bold against a red heart.

"Huh?" Due to the sudden silence of keyboard keys, even with her back to her, Marinette knew without looking that Alya's eyes had just froze open along with her fingers. "What. Oh, yeah! My night was... alright."

"Alright?" The corners of Marinette's smile tightened as she poured the expected amount of cream and sugar that Alya took.

While Marinette continued preparing the rest of her coffee, and donut, Alya huffed. "Well, I mean. It could have been better. Like way better. But, someone, and by someone i mean, I don't know, the ONLY person I live with who has access to my stuff, just ACCIDENTALLY, deleted a paper I was working on. But it was _accidentally_ so I will have to, in a timely manner, find it in myself to forgive him."

"Timely manner," Marinette echoed, walking over to Alya with her things.

"As in, it took me roughly a week to write that paper, so it will take me about a week to forgive him."

"Poor Nino," Marinette laughed, slowly sitting down from across her. She glanced at the time, noting it was close to the morning rush and with a sigh, started to re-braid her hair.

Alya took a very pursed sip of her coffee. "Poor Nino my fat- _but very appealing_ \- ass! How do you delete something that says in screaming caps- DON'T DELETE ME." a large chomp claimed half the donut's life, followed by a very muffled voice. "And ven, vat boi sayth to me…" she paused, swallowed and the continued in a high pitched voice. "Oh _my_ , I don't know _how_ that happened! One second it was there, then I sneezed, and the next it was _gone_!"

Marinette laughed, clutching her stomach in amusement over her worked up friend's antics. "And then?" she chortled.

"Then I asked him if he was capable of pulling the document out of his ass, or if it was only disappearing magic he was good at." Alya shook her head, but smiled at the peals of laughter coming out of her friend. Suddenly, her laptop chimed as email notification popped up. She clicked on it, scanning it quickly. "Wow." her eyebrows rose high above her glasses frame.

"Wow what?"

"Chloe Bourgeois just invited me to a welcome back party." She paused, narrowing her eyes.

"Chloe? From highschool? That's weird… I don't remember hearing about her getting head trauma recently." Marinette laughed.

Alya chuckled, "Nope I read that wrong. It was an invite to come _work_ at a welcome back party. She wants me to run a story on it." Her finger scrolled down on the mouse as she continued to read. "She's going to get head trauma if she thinks I'm going to come out to write an article on her boyfriend flavor of the month. Like honestly, the nerve of- oh my God!" Alya's hands flew to her chest and her mouth dropped.

"What?" Marinette, ran around to the other side of the table to see what was giving her friend such a start. As she leaned over to read, she reached over to take a sip of Alya's coffee.

 **COME WELCOME THE RETURN OF PARIS' SWEETHEART, ADRIEN AGRESTE.**

Marinette gasped, spitting coffee all over the screen.

"HEY! Jeeze, are you competing with Nino for biggest butthead?!" Alya complained.

A wave of highschool memories coupled with dusty butterflies Marinette didn't even know she still had swirled to life in her mind and the pits of her stomach. "Adrien is back from the States…" She breathed, and then hiccupped.

Alya finished wiping off her screen, and leaned closer to read the note attached. "Yup, model-boy has returned from his five year tour in America and will be here for the upcoming fashion show. She's invited me to come run an article on him and the party." a single finger snaked up to push up her glasses. "It's tomorrow at 6 at their hotel ballroom."

"Wow," Marinette said, shaking her head like a dog trying to rid itself of water. "That's crazy, it's been so long since…" Since what? She paused, thinking over where she was taking that sentence. Since he left? Since anyone has seen him, talked to him, heard from him? Since she confessed to him? Since her whole life turned upside down?!

Her hand, out of nervous habit, reached up to touch her once adorn but now bare earlobe. Before it did, she stilled it, clenching her fist, and then bringing it back down to her side. She straightened up, making eye contact with the a pedestrian approaching the front door from the outside.

The bell on the door chimed, and Marinette quickly scurried back to behind the counter, hurriedly grabbing her apron off it's hook on the wall, and tying it securely around her waist. "Hi how may I help you today?" she cheerily greeted the elderly man.

He smiled in greeting, and started perusing the baked goods behind the counter's glass windows.

"Hey, Mari."

"Yes Al," Marinette replied.

"Are you working tomorrow?"

"Ummm," Marinette glanced at her schedule hanging on the back of the counter, detailing her two full time jobs. "Actually, surprisingly enough, I get off work early at 4 tomorrow."

"Nino's working tomorrow night." Alya said vaguely. Marinette scrutinized her friend.

"I'm not baby sitting your computer, it's an inanimate object, it can be at home by itself." Marinette rolled her eyes. Her customer pointed out his pastry of choice, and she smiled and nodded at him, opening the glass window to pull it out.

"It's not that." The two made eye contact. "It says I can bring a guest." Alya's eyebrows waggled. "So how about it? Be my guest to the ball?"

Marinette gulped, faltering in wrapping up the selected pastry for her customer. "Th-that will be 4.03." she stammered, accepting the already proffered credit card.

"Cooome on Mari!" Alya whined.

"Yeah, come on Mari!" chipped in the man with a slightly toothy smile. Marinette laughed as she waved him out of the store, before folding up his receipt and depositing it into a drawer below the cashier.

A silence ensued as Marinette busily examined her flour packed fingernails while avoiding Alya's weighted stare.

"Well?"

Marinette sighed. "I don't know Alya, it's just kinda awkward… I mean I haven't talked to him in years, I barely knew him then, let alone now, and…" she blushed."It's not like we ended on the greatest note."

"That was years ago! You guys were in highschool! He probably has completely forgotten about it, and will be happy to see a familiar face." Alya paused, eyeing Marinette. "You're not still crushing on him are you?" Her fingers drummed an even temp on the table.

"Of course not!" one rusty butterfly wing flapped.

The finger drumming spiked in speed. "Are you _suuuure_?"

The other butterfly wing started to move. Smack went the hand of apathy, wiping that butterfly out of thought and existence. "Absolutely." Marinette huffed.

"Excellent, so I'll be by here at 4 to do your hair," Alya smiled, pleased with the turn of events. "Damn, this is pretty exciting. I mean, outside of it being Chloe's party, and I mean, well Chloe- but how cool is it we will be there to see Adrien, gosh, I wonder how much he's changed? I bet Nino will want to hang out with him again and-"

Alya's musing fell into background noises as a rosy cheeked Marinette went through the motions of running the small bakery.

 _I can't believe Adrien is home! I'm going to need something to wear._ The thought danced through her head, and, for one quick moment, a part of Marinette that had been asleep for years surfaced. Color and design flew through her mind as she day dreamed of a dress. But as quickly as that bloomed, with one glanced at her chock-full calendar, it died. And the reminder that even the miraculous can't change the past weighed heavy on her heart.

Agreste Manor, Same day.

 _What a ridiculously long table._ Adrien stared down the overwhelming stretch of wood that lay between him and his father. They sat, dining in...well the dining room, having an awkward dinner reunion of sorts, over watched by a silent maid. From the fixed expression on her face, it was apparent to Adrien that she would rather be anywhere then there, listening to him and his father attempt at father-son'ing. God knows Adrien gave up on it years ago.

 _Why is the salt and pepper in the center of the table too?_ He eyed it, debating if it was worth what appeared to be a mile jog to retrieve it.

"How did you like the States?" His father asked stiffly.

"It's a very…" Adrien paused, watching as his father waved at the maid. She leaned over to grab the salt and pepper and walked it over to his father. _So that explains that._ "Loud, um, yes it was a very loud country... The fast food wasn't all that bad." his father's eyes flashed up from carefully examining the placement of falling salt and pepper. _Damn it, why was_ that _the first thing that popped into my mind._ "Not that I had any of course, I mostly vicariously enjoyed it through others. And they likewise, vicariously enjoyed my starvation, and exhaustion."

His father snorted, which Adrien counted as an achievement. "I kept an eye on you out there, the companies you worked with said you were impeccable, and wished for me to know that you were the height of professional."

Well it wasn't welcome back, I missed you, I love you, how are you doing, but Adrien would take it.

"Thank you," he stuffed a piece of green beans in his mouth and then looked over at the salt and pepper, now next to his father, with longing. Definitely not worth it now.

There was a stretch of silence, only broken by the clink of forks. Eye contact was fiercely avoided as the two floundered for something to say to bridge the gap.

It was the first time since Adrien left… Since Adrien was sent away to tour America for modeling that he and his father had talked face to face. The first time in five years, and it was still as painful as it had been before he left.

Adrien accidentally bit his cheek instead of biting back on his disappointment. Blinking rapidly, he chewed and swallowed, staring blankly at the salt and pepper shakers. They were just like his father...out of reach. He didn't know what he had expected, hell it had been hard enough when his father first sent him away to swallow his anger. And yet here he was, still hoping for something, some kind of sign that things had changed.

"Here you go Master Agreste." The maid quietly said as she placed the salt and pepper shakers down in front of him.

Adrien blinked in surprise, barely remembering to murmur thanks as he accepted them. He looked at them, then over to his father, then back at table piece items. Then he grunted to himself, took another bite and mused. Maybe things could change.

"Well Plagg, we're back." Adrien allowed his little black kwami out of his coat pocket as he entered his old room. It was exactly how he remembered leaving it, even to the same blankets adorning the bed, although he was sure they were either new or recently washed. The room was impeccable as always, and still as empty feeling as ever.

The little black kwami zoomed about for a second before pausing to hover in front of Adrien. "Well this is very exciting and all, but wouldn't you rather explore the city than your dinky room."

Adrien laughed, pretty sure no one had ever used the word dinky to describe his bedroom before. "You _sure_ you don't even want a bite of cheese before we go?"

"I'm _sure_ I didn't choose a dodo bird to partner with me," came the cat's snarky response.

Adrien shrugged before with a small grin. It had been five years since he left. Two since Ladybug began to appear less and less, and then one year since she altogether was time to find his friend. "Plagg, transform me!"

 **Let me know what you think :)**

 **-RS**


	2. Chapter 2: A Wrinkle in Paris

**Hello again,**

 **I realize I'm a week late with this- I was pretty busy with the holidays, sorry!**

 **Thank you to everyone who reviewed and favorited/followed, it means so much to me to hear back from my readers! I apologize for any errors, I'll be sure to spend more time in the future going over chapters before I post them. As for Marinette's earrings... Stick around :)  
**

 **I hope everyone enjoys this chapter and has a wonderful new year!**

 **No Exchange or Returns.**

 **Chapter 2: A Wrinkle In Paris.  
**

 _Dong. Dong. Dong_. The clock tower bells tolled out 12 times, signaling that midnight had fallen on the city of Paris. As it was a work night, the night life wasn't booming, the streets rather bare of cars and pedestrians, the usual sounds of life having died down to a soft serenading hum. Stars twinkled, street lights gleamed and traffic lights flashed red and green over silent intersections. The hush that had fallen over the Parisian world claimed all but a few that night. A night that could be considered completely normal if it wasn't for one of those few happened to be a presence that hadn't graced the city in many years.

Chatnoir, balanced perfectly on a tall, thin chimney pipe, gazed out over the city lights with nostalgia that ached through his entire being. Like someone had fisted his heart and each breath could not be deep enough for the sight before him was a surging wave of emotions and memories crashing down on him. The buildings, stores and homes, art galleries, museums, and parks all laid out in what seemed perfection. Each laced with familiarity and memories that blinded him to the boarded up windows, tarped-over roofs and crumbling exteriors. That street three down was the street he and Ladybug dodged flying piranhas on. There was the hotel window that fate seemed particularly enamored with throwing him through. And there…

His mouth twisted in a pained smile as he gazed with confliction at _her_. _La dame de fer._ The tower, poised proud over the city with glittering white lights was heart wrenchingly beautiful. From the design to the memories invoked. It was the last place he had seen his lady. And hopefully the place they would reunite. Hopefully. The memory of the last time he had been there with her rose unbidden to his mind, and he bit his lip in a grimace. With a shake of his he chased the memory away, determined to focus on his purpose that night. He had been all over the city in the last two hours and hadn't seen a single glimpse of her, but if there was anywhere for her to be on any given night, it was there.

Baton in hand, and spirits high, Chat raced away, springing and flipping through the cool darkness. His eyes were wide, darting around in hope to catch a glimpse, a flash of red, a bubble of laughter with maybe a "silly kitty". But asides the normal ambience, there was nothing. Nothing in the darkness of the night, nothing in the lit streets below, nothing in the newspapers, nothing on the ladyblog, and a freezing, echoing, screaming nothing in the part of his heart that had belonged to her since the moment their eyes had met. Without his realizing his feet moved quicker, bringing him to his goal as his brain reassured himself that he would find her. Because, there was the resolute knowing within him that somewhere out there in this world, she existed, and as long as he had that, he would look till his lungs no longer had the strength to draw air.

MLB MLB MLB

His heart pounded irregularly as he soared up to his and Ladybug's usual spot in the heart of the tower. His eyes loved over the beloved metal frame, noting the gouged design, parts where new parts had been put in to fix what a missing miraculous never did. His feet touched down, and two pigeons took flight with a nervous squawk from their nests in the shadows. Seeing their home there only sent the fact home that no one had been here recently to have chased them away sooner. He resisted the childish urge to boot the nests off. For a moment he just stood there, swaddled in the darkness, fists clenched and head down as he tried to deal with the barrage of feeling inside.

 _Where is she?._ He had been so so damn sure that if he just came to Paris, just showed up again, that she would feel him, that she would return for him. That they could undo the damage of five years apart.

But the wailing silence pressed down on him with all the weight of his guilt and fear. _What if Ladybug had left Paris like me? What if She's gone for good. What if she got hurt so badly while I was gone that she couldn't do it anymore. What if._ He swallows, his eyes bouncing back and forth as he gazed out over the park. _What if she has left this world… just like I left her five years ago…_ the knife constructed of guilt that he always carried in his chest, twisted several centimeters and he dropped to his knees gazing blankly at his hands. _I shouldn't have gotten on that plane five years ago. I should have stood up to my father. I shouldn't have gone. I should have been here with her._

Every should have in the world ran through his mind as he placed the blame for everything, for ladybugs disappearance, for the decay of his city, and the lost of hope of the Parisians on his frail shoulders. It was crushing and seared with all the accusing hate of those who he had been charged to protect. But some part of him didn't even feel surprise at the thought, after all he was the bad luck to her good, perhaps it was inevitable that this would come to due. Or perhaps it was his punishment for leaving her. A cosmic fine for upsetting their balance and deserting the team.

He hadn't meant to, never in his wildest dreams did he think when he boarded that plane that one year would turn to two, and then two to five as quickly as that. He never meant to be gone so long, and had been so sure by the time he returned she would still be here. She was after all Ladybug, a symbol of hope and strength to everyone, especially him, her chaotic shadow. But seeing the city in claws of darkness that weren't his- every unhealed scar hidden from sight but still fresh- it was a stark reminder that Ladybug wasn't invincible, wasn't here and showed no promise of ever returning.

Suddenly the transformation dropped, and his suit faded to show his jeans. His eyes shot up in bewilderment to meet Plagg's narrowed green eyes.

"What gives?" he demanded, suddenly recalling his fear of heights.

Plagg gave a delicate sneer. "Sorry I didn't want to sit and let you mope and beat yourself up for the rest of my nine lives but what did you expect? You would show up and she would just randomly on her own appear again? It's been a year since the last confirmed sighting of Her! A whole year!"

Adrian's eyes dropped back to his knees, the fear inside of him at his words threatened to consume him. If it wasn't for that feeling in his heart… that faint warmth that even the chill of the night couldn't steal away, he might have completely given up.

"What are we doing than Plagg? What is the whole point of us coming out tonight""

The small kwami looked like he wanted to pull his whiskers out. "This!" he screeched, flitting about in gesture to the view. "Seeing it, seeing what has happened without you two here! Seeing why it's so damn important that you and her are back together." His little chest puffed for a few moment as he calmed down and after a moment he sighed. "Adrian, believe it or not, life isn't all about her, or you, or even cheese-"

"Say it isn't so!" Adrian muttered, quickly finding the strange desire to examine a scattered nest a foot away, dodgin the burning glare of the small flying gremlin.

"What it's about is this," the kawami lifted a small paw towards the city once again. "about stopping destruction from hurting those without the strength to stop it. I know its not your fault you left, you didn't want it, but we're back now! And while we did come back to Paris to find her, we also came here for them. The people who depend on us to protect from Hawkmoth, who, in case you haven't noticed, is the only one in our love triangle who hasn't taken a vacation."

It was one of the few times Adrian had heard his kawami speak in more than short glibs and, just like he had in the past, he took every word seriously. "Plagg… has this ever happened to you before?"

Plagg cocked his little head in a very cat like way, and his eyes, for a heartbeat, stretched, if possible, wider, almost vulnerable. "No," he admitted. "I have never gone longer than a month or two without seeing her, " he didn't have to explain for Adrian to understand that he meant ladybugs kawami. "and it's been five years… we aren't meant to be apart, kid. Us miraculous, like our bearers, we're two wings of the same bird, it's impossible to fly without us both together. We just end up...spiraling out of control..." they both looked back to Paris seeing the evidence of that more apparent than ever.

 **MLB MLB MLB**

T _ick tick tick_. It took all of Marinette's self control not to stare all day at the clock. It had been a long morning, and, despite Alya's usual presence to help pass time, the morning had dragged by. There had been the normal morning customers, the normal city life, the normal amount of spilled coffees, dropped pastries and "that's not the recycling". And the worse part was time never seemed to pass in the bakery. Did she ever go to sleep, or did she just close her eyes and her day rewinded to the beginning. Or maybe she was just a song stuck on repeat- and it had gotten old two years ago. She had been working at the bakery, at least part time, for as long as she could remember, started full time after… after her college plan didn't quite follow through. She was slowly preparing herself for a lifetime of this, she knew that. But she had to. It was the only way to feel...close...

The clock chimed, signaling the early close had come and she busily set to getting the shop cleaned up, after all, something not so normal was about to happen. A welcomed disruption to her mundane life. Marinette chuckled at that errant thought- the idea that she had gotten to the point as describing her life as mundane was both unbelievable and depressing. She really wished- Marinette shook her head, cutting off the thought before it could take bloom with the rest of the regret flowers in her disappointment garden.

Once the shop was tidy, Marinette began to creep her way up the stairs to her family's residence. Upon entering her own home she had to blink several times to adjust to the family room that was dark save a muted TV. Across from it, illuminated in its blue cast, was her father, dressed in a stained gray shirt and boxers, sleeping heavily with a drunk clutched tight to his chest.

Not unusual.

Her shoulders slumped slightly even though she kept her eyes forward. Her feet rose to meet the stairs in front of her, while her heart sank, if even possible, lower. As she climbed the stairs she remembered to practice the recommended breathing techniques.

Breathe into your stomach.

Think of everything that weighs you down, feel it settle in there with your breath. Then blow it all out, the air, your anger, your sadness, release it all one go.

She did, or at least she tried. But as always, the cold pit in her stomach just seemed to swallow everything she gave it, and the chill, growing stronger, settled deeper in to her bones making it harder to move and breathe.

Her fingers found her light switch as her feet made contact with her familiar plush rug. Her overhead light flickered to life, slightly dimmed by cobwebs.

As she kicked off her work shoes and began changing out of her clothes, deciding against showering due to time, her eyes wandered her room.

But like the rest of her day, nothing had changed with it either. Her bare pink walls, with some random cracks and plaster, her faded blankets and pillows and her simple dresser and desk, same as always. In a corner, an untouched pile of old school books and papers buried the broken remnants of her sowing machine, discarded yet unable to be thrown away by her shaky hands.

As she made her way to wardrobe, she paused to glance at herself in the mirror. She didn't normally give her underwear clad self a once over, dating not being on the forefront of her mind of recent, but this evening was to mark a change and so she would change with it.

Gone were her lean muscles, and rounded curves. Despite working in a bakery and being surrounded by pastries and sugar, eating had fluctuated from being a distraction from life, to a habit she had to remind herself was necessary. In between her busy work schedules she often forgot to eat a proper meal and upon returning home would instantly crash, trying to get a full night's rest before the day repeated. This was evident in her ribs that pressed against her skin, bordering on too skinny. Her lanky arms and legs, no longer rounded with muscle and her hip bones that threatened to pierce through with too sharp of a movement. She was taller, and her skin more creamy from lack of sun. Her hair hung past her pokey shoulder blades, black with its usual blue shine. Her lashes were thick and her eyes deep set over her round cheeks and heart shaped face. Even now she grimaced, unable to get rid of her puppy fat on her face. If only she had the ability to move it from her face to her not-so-enviable chest.

With a glance at her watch, she sighed, time had passed in her brooding. Within the hour she had,her hair was curled, half of it pulled back and up, secured with a flowery clip, her make up done, all natural except for the gold glitter on her lids and pink dew on her lips. Another glance at her watch told her that any second now Alya would be stomping as loudly as she could at the front door, to make her presence known without having to come in. She zoomed over to her wardrobe, throwing it in and rifling through clothes that hadn't been updated recently. "God," she grumbled, sorting through what seemed to be half of her highschool clothes, and the other half stained by flour. "There has to be something!" And so there was, as her hand fell on a a familiar soft royal purple fabric. The last design she had ever made, to wear for Alya's graduation. It hadn't been worn since due to a lack of special occasions. But despite the changes of styles in the world, the simple but elegant dress was as classy as she remembered making it to be. It was strapless except for delicate black loops of lace that would wrap around her arms. The center of the chest dipped down slightly, and the waist was cinched tight before the skirts fell, looking like delicate purple petals. The front fell to her knees, while the back would just touch the ground once her black stilettos were on.

She smiled fondly at the dress and the memories of a happier time. Her smile was sucked from her face though instantly as some familiar feet made their presence loud and clear at her front door. Shit.

 **MLB MLB MLB**

"Gee, I hope she didn't forget to invite anyone." Alya said dryly as her and Marinette stood at the top of the stairs that descended down into the large and very crowded ballroom.

"Wow, I didn't know all of Paris could fit in one room." Marinette murmured in agreement. The ballroom was filled with fluttering gowns and suits, glittering jewelry and champagne flutes. Music played from a string quartet that stood post in a corner of a room, providing a soft background noise to the chatter of what was probably all of the celebrities and well known public figures in a 1000 mile distance. Out of the corner of her eye, Marinette could see Alya's hand twitching to the small bag hanging from her shoulder that contained her notepad and recorder. Her friend's eyes already dancing around, marking her two women took a simultaneous breath as they summoned their courage… -or tolerance in Marinette's case- lifting their feet to take their stumble-worthy descent down the stairs. But before they could begin, a cloud of bougie parfumee swallowed them, leaving them momentarily stunned.

"Oh. My. Gawd. I can not, simple can. Not. Believe my eyes."

"Nor I my ears." Alya rolled her eyes before turning. "Chloe."

"Alya, so glad you could make it!" The blonde before them, despite the obvious face tweaks- a nose job here, a lip fluff there- was without doubt a familiar menace. She was slender as always, tall and elegant in a way that girls dreamed but wrote off as impossible. The very way she stood, as if her gold stilettos were combat boots, and her purse a weapon lended her the commanding air that had helped her sieze and follow in her father's footsteps in politics. She wore a silk red dress that clung to her hair was long, voluminous and curling around her face, helping to soften the sharp edges of her expression. Her icy eyes met Marinette's, and her lips twitched in what appeared to be an attempt at real smile. It could also have been a left over tick from the botox, but Mari was going to give her the benefit of doubt. "And baker girl," The blonde reached out to grab Marinette's hands, giving her a not so subtle once over.

Marinette blinked. She hadn't even expected that much recognition from her childhood rival.

"Hi Chloe."

"I hope you don't mind, I brought Marinette to stand in as my date tonight." Alya hastily threw in, uncertain of how much the old Chloe was still in the woman before them.

Chloe just waved her hand in response. "I remember how tight you two were at highschool, I honestly am not surprised." Someone called her name, and her eyes glanced away and then back. "Well, I must be going. I would love to catch up sometime." she paused, thinking for a moment. "Well, honestly, I have said that to about a hundred people now, and I have meant that for at least only three, and you aren't one of them but oh well, maybe next year."

Alya snorted and Marinette elbowed her.

"Please enjoy the festivities though!" Chloe said, stepping past them and gracefully meeting every step with ease. Marinette burned with jealousy. "I look forward to the article Alya!"

The two friends gave it a moment for Chloe to pass with her meek entourage and then the giggles erupted.

"I would looooove to catch up!" Marinette said in a faux high voice.

"Oh my, I have hit my quota for human empathy for the day, I am so sorry, I will have to bless you with my voice on the next occasion...That you _won't_ be at." Alya brought her hand weakly to her forehead and Marinette snorted, laughing so hard, she was afraid the dress would rip.

"Ladies, I'm glad to see we are already in a fine mood this evening."

A masculine voice behind Marinette spoke. Marinette looked at Alya who had suddenly stood straight and was wiping her hands on her dress as if they were sweaty.

Oh God.

Marinette slowly looked over her shoulder. Oh God Oh God. Blue eyes met green and for the briefest moment, the world shifted. Marinette snapped her head back around, blushing furiously.

Adrien Agreste.

 _Act cool,_ some voice screamed at her. _Act nonchalant. So what if the last time you saw him you were confessing your love and he told you he didn't return the feeling. That was years ago! You don't like him now, now you're an adult. Pretend you don't recognize him. Jeeze, do something!_

So she did. She squared her shoulders, tossed her hair and lifted her head...and took a step….into air.

Well now the world really did shift.

 **MLB MLB MLB**

Adrien smacked his jacket pocket as he once again felt Plaqq try to make a break for it. " _But it's a Bourgeois party!" the cat had whined pitifully, watching Adrien fight with his bow tie. "She always has the best cheese, Adrien. The Best!" Those big green eyes had blinked at him, in hope to garner favor. "Think of the cheese Adrien, The cheese! Who knows when opportunities like this will strike again." A pillow smacked the cat out of the air._

"I swear, Plaqq." he hissed, certain the cat would hear him. "Sneak out of that pocket and I will never give you camembert again!" He took the deathly stillness underneath his palm to be a good sign. The only reason Plaqq was here was to try and sense the other miraculous, in case Ladybug just happened to be there. In case Ladybug just happened to be a member of the Chloe fan club. Adrien shook his head at his own ridiculous hope. There was _no way_ Ladybug would miraculously be at a small get together of Chloe, Chloe's friends, Chloe's wanna be friends, And Chloe's wants-to-be-friends-with friends.

He entered the entrance of the great hall and almost instantly turned around. The sheer amount of people at the ball below was daunting. _Then again,_ he thought irely, _with everyone from Paris here, who knows, maybe Ladybug_ and _Hawkmoth are here._

He walked towards the stairs and was about to side step a pair of amused women standing at the top step when he made eye contact with the red haired woman who faced him. Was that…

"Ladies," He smiled, his hands twitching in excitement. Alya was here she was the one who had updated the Ladyblog, maybe...maybe she would know something! "I'm glad to see we're already in a fine mood this evening."

The slender black haired woman dressed in an alluring purple dress with her back to him turned her head slightly to peer over the graceful curve of her shoulder and his eyes widened in even more surprise.

Any doubt in his mind as to who these two were was removed when a fondly familiar blush spread across the black haired woman's face, before she whipped her head back around. It was Marinette, Marinette and Alya. He took another step forward to greet her when she suddenly straightened robotically and took a not so measured step forward herself.

Her arms windmilled wildly as her body committed to what would surely be the most embarrassing and bruising tumble of her life. Alya had an hand outstretched, yelling Marinette's name.

And with inhuman speed, Adrien sprung down a few steps to catch the petite woman before she could fall the rest of the way down the steps.

"I got you," he murmured, holding her carefully by the upper arms as her new-born baby deer legs tried to find a step. She was so light. Her hair shone just underneath his and for a moment the desire to run his fingers through it see if it was as soft as it looked popped in his head.

"Wow you sure move fast, Adrien," Alya's obnoxiously loud voice stated and Adrien ground his teeth, belatedly remembering how keen Alya's instincts were. .

"Is everyone staring?" Marinette whispered to the second button of his white shirt. She took a small breath and instantly regretted it as the musky spice of Adrien's cologne did weird things to the dead butterflies in her stomach. _He looked you dead in the eye and said THANK YOU BUT I LIKE SOMEONE ELSE!_ Her stomach rolled queasily at that humiliating reminder.

Adrien glanced behind him, noting the silence in conversation as people were peering up at them. He chuckled, save it for Marinette to ruin his attempts at a subtle entrance. "Yeah, but it's okay, they're staring at me."

And so they were, as people realized that, even more interesting than a girl cartwheeling down the stairs, was the person who had caught her against him.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" Chloe's voice sang over a microphone. "I'm happy to introduce our guest of honor this night, Adrien Agreste!"

Adrien gently released Marinette in time to turn and wave as the crowd below politely clapped. Chloe was striding up the stairs to meet him then, and Marinette took her cue to duck her head meekly and back step up to Alya's side.

"Welcome back Adrien!" Chloe whispered to him, kissing him on both cheeks while keeping a comfortable distance between their bodies. Adrien relaxed, noting that his overbearing highschool friend had toned down, not throwing herself all over him as she once did. Not so comforting was the sound of Alya's laborious breathing mixed with the shutter sounds of her digital camera.

Noting his discreet glance back, Chloe laced her arm through his and murmured. "Be sure to give her the full scoop. She's the only reporter here tonight since I figured you would be more comfortable with someone you knew."

Adrien's eyebrows raised dramatically at this kind and thoughtful gesture. Chloe had changed a lot. If it wasn't for the blush still staining Marinette's face, and the ever existing distance between him and his father he would think he had stepped into an alternate universe by accident.

"Now come on!" Chloe tugged his arm in a way that told him there was no choice in the matter, reminding him that she was the person on the march to being mayor after her father. Dutifully, he followed her down into a sea of faces, bracing himself like a storm-struck sailor facing down a tidal wave.

 **MLB MLB MLB**

Marinette sighed, finally finding a piece of quiet on the small balcony overlooking the hotel gardens.

Her hands fiddled with the glass of champagne in her hands and she suddenly wished they were giving out something a little harder to help the party pass. Alya was having the time of her life, darting around to various people, and Marinette just couldn't keep up with her friend. She had gotten used to her mundane routine of life, and now she regretted trying to leave it if even for the night. The last two painful hours had been filled with listening to previous peers' success stories as they made it through life, and dodging questions about how she was making it through her own.

" _I'm doing alright!" she had lied through a wide frozen smile. "I love working in the bakery!"_

"What am I doing here." Marinette mumbled to herself, shaking her glass absentmindedly as if it would turn into a magic 8 ball any second and the answer would float to the surface. Her shoulders hunched, about to cave down upon her at any moment because her Atlas had left. She looked out into the night taking a deep breath of cool air before tipping the glass back and downing the rest of the bubbly liquid.

"Rough night? Can I get you another?" A male voice said behind her and Marinette choked slightly. Not again.

Deep breath, look cool, turn around.

But it wasn't a pair of green eyes that met hers this time, or even a familiar face. It was one of the waiters, a silver plate holding full glasses of champagne in his white-gloved hands, and a friendly smile on his tan face. His almond-shaped brown eyes were slightly obscured under his disheveled brown hair that hung over his forehead. That coupled with the warm wide smile on his face stabbed a knife through Marinette's heart. It was so similar but it wasn't _him_. _He_ was gone. Been gone for years.

Marinette smiled slowly. "Um, yeah, actually." She replaced one of the full glasses with her empty flute, and raised it to him slightly in thanks.

"Well enjoy your night," he turned to leave but Marinette snagged his elbow.

"Take a break," she coaxed him. "You look like you need a few minutes." She didn't want that smile to go.

He hesitated, cocking his head. Another familiar gesture. "We're not supposed to…"

"Keep me company? I'll drink the rest of your champagne." Marinette suggested, and as if to prove her point, drank down the one already in her hand. She could almost not feel the cold pit in her stomach as the alcohol filled it with a frothing warmth that spread to her fingers, chasing away the dampness in her bones. It was delightful. Like the amused shine in the waiter's eyes.

"Well," he doubtfully glanced at his numerous full glasses. "Maybe for a few minutes." He balanced the tray carefully on the balcony ledge before stepping closer to stand across from her, both of them resting an arm on the cool stone. Marinette snagged a new glass, her empty one joining the rest.

"What dragged you out here?" Marinette asked curiously, looking over the rim of her glass at him.

She hadn't seen much to any party life on the balcony, most of it remaining in the warm secludes of the ballroom.

The man hesitated. "A break." he admitted with an abashed chuckle, running a hand through his already messy locks.

Marinette snorted.

"You?" he asked, his eyes glancing down her swifty before meeting hers again with a foolish smile, knowing full well she had seen that move even in the dim lighting. "You look dressed to...to..." He searched for a good word. "Dance." he finished lameley.

Marinette laughed, ducking her head. "I take it you missed my grand entrance on the stairway."

"Ah, so you were the snowball traveling down the mountain." He smiled stretched wider. "In that case, by all means, please stay out here and don't break anything, yourself included."

"Hey!" Marinette swatted his arm. She shrugged. "I actually don't really know anyone here, I'm just a guest." That wasn't true. There had been a few she knew from college or highschool, but that had felt like another life.

"Ah," his arms drew closer to himself, his eyes guarded but sympathetic. "Date ditch you for the festivities?"

"Wow, don't ever go into criminal science, you're awful at this guessing thing." Marinette shook her head. "I'm with my friend, she's a reporter."

He relaxed, his lips tugging up on one side in a crooked smile. "Ah, I see. Well, seeing as I am so bad at guessing, will you save me a few million poor attempts at figuring out your name?"

"Marinette." she traded the glass to her left hand before sticking out her right, feeling strangely childish. "Marinette Dupain-Cheng." The curtains behind the two separating them from the ballroom rustled at that moment as a muffled voice announced that he was just stepping out for a moment.

In a flash the waiter had the tray up and Marinette's hand, still empty, slowly sank. She angled her body to face out over the gardens again, feeling silly over the strange and unfamiliar smile that wouldn't leave her face. She glanced back to the waiter, feeling as if, in their short conversation they had managed to share a secret.

"Have a good night." the waiter murmured, before turning away to who ever had invaded their rendezvous. "Do you need anything sir?" There was no response, so Marinette imagined whoever the stranger was, he had shaken his head. The curtains rustled again, signifying her comrade's departure.

Marinette sighed, it was about time she went back in, maybe wrestled Alya off of whoever's calves she was boa constricting.

"Marinette? Marinette Dupain-Cheng?"

She froze as she turned. _At least this balcony has a fence._ She thought dryly as she slowly lifted her eyes, pleased to find that she could control the blush from staining her face a special feature of fifty shades of tomato.

"Hi Adrien." she said shyly, tucking her hair behind her ear. How it was possible that Adrien was even better looking than she remembered was beyond her. He had somehow managed to grow even taller, the top of her head barely passing his nose with her heels on. The grey tux he wore was unbuttoned, revealing a flatteringly tight white blouse that stretched around his broad chest and shoulders. Adrien's blonde hair was swept to the side, thick and yet somehow silky looking. His jaw had sharpened, the youthful softness stripped from his face to reveal solid cheekbones and a strong nose. His hands were tucked casually in his pockets, exuding an air of confidence because… because he was Adrien Agreste and she was only Marinette Dupain-Cheng, a baker girl. Her heart sunk, but the thought was immediately forgotten as she looked into Adrien's eyes and was suddenly reminded why, all those years ago, he could send her into cardiac arrest with just one look from those emerald eyes.

Adrien's eyes had the power of making you feel like the most important and beautiful person, like you could do anything because _he_ believed you could do anything. It used to send a warm rush through her, but Marinette was older now. And older her had reflected on the childish romanticizing of younger her. That no one would ever leave her. That she could save Paris by herself. That a look from Adrien was more powerful than any miraculous.

"How are you?" Marinette forced herself to say, breaking the silence. She desperately wished Alya would come out now and get her stupid scoop. She wondered if Adrien remembered the last time they had spoken before he left- was it evil to pray for someone to have memory loss?

"Good," Adrien rocked back and forth slightly. "Glad to be back. The States were interesting but nothing replaces home."

His words sounded practiced and Marinette tried not to grin as she wondered how often he had said them before in the last two hours.

"Everything exactly as you remembered it?" she asked teasingly. She wished she could have taken back the words as Adrien's perfect face twisted, his brow furrowing and his smile pained.

"Not quite." he muttered, kicking at an invisible rock. Ladybug was gone. The city crumbling under the numerous attacks of Hawkmoth. He felt Marinette's quizzical gaze on him and he hastily recovered. "I mean, you've changed a lot, you're…" Another slight hesitation as he tried to come up with a good word that summarized everything that had changed in his old highschool classmate. Her hair, was no longer in pigtails- had he ever seen her without pigtails before? He kinda wished he had. It fell like a rippling black river, sleek and mesmerizing down her slim shoulder. Gold hoops gleamed against the curtain of black, hanging from her lobes. She was taller now, though slightly aided by high heels. She seemed thinner too. He had never remembered looking at her before and thinking frail, but perhaps he hadn't been as observant before. But the darkness, under her deep blue eyes, backed by the exhausted slump of her shoulders definitely hadn't been there before. Marinette had always been so full of life, and ambition and...joy… "You're… beautiful." His voice came out strangely weak. She was. But she wasn't the Marinette he remembered. Was this all due to the lack of miraculous in the city? Guilt weighed heavy on him. Or was there something else?

"I'm beautiful?" Marinette's voice was like a cold splash of water breaking him from his musings.

Belatedly Adrien thought back through what he had said previously; to his horror, remembering he had said she had changed, then following it up with the compliment, suggesting that she hadn't been before. Even worse, he recalled, she had told him she liked him years ago, just before he had left! Adrien desperately wished he could throw his baton in the air and shout miraculous Chatnoir just for the chance that a time machine would come back down.

But that was Ladybugs power, and he was left with the short end of the...baton.

"I didn't mean it that way!" he threw up his hands innocently. "I just-"

He was saved from some poor excuse when a real smile broke across Marinette's face, shedding more light than the dim overhead lanterns. Something warm and familiar tingled in his chest. Before he could dwell on it though, the curtains parted again and Chloe bounced out.

"Adrien! They're about to cut the cake. Alya wants a picture of you next to it!"

Adrien tried not to groan as he recalled an image of the cake to mind. It was a large cake, with a picture of his face on it and in bold red icing "This cake isn't the only thing delicious!". Forget a time machine, how about a teleporter.

But, perhaps it was worth it, as he noted Marinette's smile had stretched even wider at his impending humiliation.

"I'm coming," he reassured Chloe before she could have a conniption. He glanced back at Marinette, apologetically, and she hastily waved her hand at him.

"Go on! We can catch up another time!" _Now I sound like Chloe_ Marinette resisted the urge to roll her eyes at herself and false promises.

Adrien grinned and nodded. He was about to take Chloe's proffered hand and follow her out when he remembered an errant thought. "Did you design that dress, it looks fantastic! You must be taking the fashion world by by storm!"

Chloe's hand snatched his in a death-tight grasp. "I hear them calling for us, let's go Adrien!" She ruthlessly pulled Adrien back into the ballroom before he could hear Marinette's response, but not before he could see her broken expression.

"Wow, literally the worst thing you could have said. I _swear_ you are like, the most obtuse person ever. Some things just never change." Chloe hissed, exasperated before announcing to the eager onlookers that she had wrangled the cake cutter.

 **MLB MLB MLB**

"My boss is going to be thrilled." Alya squealed as she gleefully clutched her purse to her. Marinette smiled slightly at her friend's happiness, adjusting her seat belt over her chest. The last time she had seen her so thrilled was...probably the last time she had updated the Ladyblog. It was good that Alya was moving on to bigger and better things. She turned to look outside the taxi window, watching as the hotel faded into the distance.

"Did you have a good time tonight?" Alya asked absentmindedly, her fingers slowly flipping through her notes like a shepherd would count his sheep...or a mafia boss would his money.

"Uhuh," She hadn't. But there were a few moments that had been memorable. Adrien- perfect smart, sexy, sweet Adrien Agreste- had called her beautiful. For just a moment, she forgot her embarrassments, the crumbling city, the state of her life, and her searing guilt. Because Adrien said she was _beautiful_. Without her realizing it, a small smile pulled at the corners of her lips and, this time, the warmth that spread through her chest wasn't due to any champagne.

 **Please leave your thoughts with me :)**  
 **Happy New Years!**

 **-RS**


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